


don't know how it gets better than this

by g0ldrush



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Coming of Age, F/F, Fluff, High School AU, One Shot, brief mention of noncon, wow me not writing smut for once
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:47:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28440402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/g0ldrush/pseuds/g0ldrush
Summary: They spend the early evening reading excerpts of Romeo and Juliet to each other on Asami’s porch. Asami reads on the porch chair as it swings aimlessly in the warm early spring breeze. She’s still in her cheer uniform and Korra doesn’t have a chance to ask how she manages both cheer and soccer. Korra barely manages hockey.
Relationships: Korra & Asami Sato, Korra/Asami Sato
Comments: 3
Kudos: 141





	don't know how it gets better than this

The car hums, low and hoarse as Korra waits in the school lot. She’d offhandedly promised to pick up her english partner and all of a sudden she’s regretting it, twenty minutes late and low on fuel. She switches it off, flicking the key, and then back on again, hoping not to burn out the fragile engine. 

Asami runs out of the school sweaty and flustered, gym bag slung haphazardly over her shoulder and for a second Korra is fixated on the way Asami’s baby hairs have plastered themselves across her forehead. Asami slings her bag through the open back window, watching with a smirk as Korra cringes - sending a warm smile in gratitude.

They play the music loud and keep the air con on low, just cool enough to dry Asami’s hair without having her complain about how it’s warmer in the arctic. Korra’s used to cold weather, she doesn’t really care.

Asami gives vague directions to her home as and when she sees fit, often directing Korra to take turns she didn’t even know existed when they’re already almost past them. It drives Korra mad as she abuses the car's delicate steering.

What she does notice is they end up barely two streets over from her own house. A standard three bed, two bath, decent garden house that looks just as identical as every other one in the neighborhood. 

It’s painted green. Korra thinks it fits.

They spend the early evening reading excerpts of Romeo and Juliet to each other on Asami’s porch. Asami reads on the porch chair as it swings aimlessly in the warm early spring breeze. She’s still in her cheer uniform and Korra doesn’t have a chance to ask how she manages both cheer and soccer. Korra barely manages hockey. 

They eat homemade ice cream sundaes and watch the sunset over the eerie glow of the street lamps until Asami complains she can’t see the pages anymore and Korra has long since stopped making notes on prose and characters.

They don’t talk about school tomorrow because they won’t see each other. Asami asks if she will pick her up. Korra says yes.

****

Korra gets a text at half past seven telling her quite emphatically that Asami is running late. There is no question posed that Korra can discern on the screen - the glare from the early morning screen compromising her vision anyway - but she grabs her backpack and the keys to the car and swings round the corner anyway. 

She rationalizes it by telling herself that it’s on the way to school anyway. It is.

She pulls up and Asami is sitting on the porch steps in a cream denim miniskirt and her letterman jacket. She skips to the car and slides onto the front seat with a telltale squeak of bare legs on leather, throwing her bag onto the backseat in a way that still makes Korra cringe even after two weeks. She smells of lemongrass and vanilla.

Asami giggles and Korra catches her mouth curving up in the reverse mirror, so she lets Asami pick the music and just focuses on the gear stick and anything else in her control.

She watches as Asami sways to Fifteen by Taylor Swift, belting out the lyrics like she can feel them in her soul. They’re Sophomores but they were Freshmen last year and to be honest, from what she knows of Asami, she wouldn’t be surprised if that was her life. 

They pull into the school parking lot to the sounds of Fearless and even Korra cracks a smile at the way Asami is beaming. They have five minutes before they need to be in school and Korra averts her eyes as Asami twists awkwardly to grab her bag from where it ended up on the floor, skirt riding up so Korra can see the plum lace of her panties. She gulps and pulls out her well worn copy of Little Women instead. Not watching as Asami quickly reviews her AP Chemistry textbook. 

“Thanks Korra! You’re the best,” Asami calls as she slams the rickety car door on the third attempt. 

“Anytime Asami.” And Korra finds she means it.

****

Korra’s phone vibrates under her pillow at one in the morning on a friday. They’ve been on summer break for a month and Korra hasn’t really done much but she’ll admit she’s missed Asami. Until she woke her up that is. 

She answers it with a defeated sign, tugging on her oversized Van Halen t-shirt until it feels decent even though no one is going to look into her tiny bedroom. The light filters through the window in a way that makes it feel like she’s in a weird horror film and she remembers why this is called the witching hour. 

“Come over Korra, I’m bored,” comes the whine from down the phone and Korra has to stifle a laugh even though she knows how much trouble she could get in for this. She sighs. She can’t really argue - doesn’t want to. She’s always been called boring. She doesn’t want to be anymore.

“I’m coming Asami, gimme five.” 

She tugs on an oversized jacket and pulls a pair of gym shorts under her shirt, grabbing the running shoes from the bottom of her closet and spritzing a couple of squirts of sandalwood and shea from her almost empty perfume bottle. When she’s pretty sure she looks okay, she pushes up her window and thanks the gods she’s over the porch. It’s well structured and surprisingly easy to climb both up and down (her brother proved it to her last week) and she slides the window shut behind her as she shimmies down stained wood into the crisp summer night.

It’s not cold and the summer moon means it’s not dark either so she manages the walk quite calmly, feeling a freedom she sometimes forgets she has.

Asami sat on her porch steps in a pair of grey joggers and a black sports bra, draped in a tarte blanket and with what is unmistakably a bottle of wine gripped between her thighs.

They don’t actually talk for a while, just pass the bottle between themselves taking swigs of it like it’s water until Asami is giggling at a sparrow - the moon making her raven hair glow in a way Korra deems completely unfair. She’s ethereal, godlike in this light and Asami wants to tuck some of the escaped strands back behind her ear so she can watch the shadow in the curve of her upper lip.

She wants them to talk about boys, or talk about girls - to delve into who they are because surely that’s how you should spend wine time at two a.m but the wine is all gone and Asami’s cheek is soft on Korra’s padded shoulder and somehow their fingers intertwine. 

She starts humming something under her breath, something old - a song her dad used to sing her to help her sleep and Asami tugs at her hand to make her sing it louder until Korra is serenading the sleepy neighborhood with Mama Cass. 

She shakes Asami awake just after four as the sun rises down the wide street. Their knees are stiff but Asami stands up, tugging Korra by the hands into a hug. She’s not sure what it’s for but it’s welcomed and when Korra clambers back through her window she can smell vanilla.

****

She’s clad in a hoodie and leggings when she pulls up to the big house. The party she was at finished hours ago but she’s told Asami to text her if she needed her and apparently she needs her so she’d put the heating on full blast and grabbed a blanket out of the trunk to wrap Asami in when she came out. 

She watches as she walks carefully out of the house, feet bare and stiletto heels in her hands. Asami slides into the front seat quietly. She carefully drops the heels into the footwell and puts an awful lot of effort into fastening her seatbelt just right until she looks up at Korra and something snaps.

Her eyes are red and raw and her lipstick is smudged across her chin and she looks so tired Korra wants to bundle her up, hold her close and never let her go. But she doesn’t. 

She places one hand in her lap and drives calmly to an empty house down the road, pulling into the drive and turning the engine off.

Asami is gripping her hand like a lifeline, clammy fingers twisted around soft flesh. In the light of the streetlamp, there are scratches on Asami’s bare thighs and Korra gulps on reflex - choking back something that could have been a retch if what she’s thinking is true.

She takes a second to compose herself, brushing through Asami’s hair with her free hand. “You okay Sami?” She asks quiet and still - trying to keep the situation as tranquil as she can.

Asami takes a huge snotty inhale, broken by sobs, and shakes her head. She tries to speak but she isn’t breathing enough to form words and all that's coming out is a choked whimper. 

“Hey Asami, you’re safe,” she murmurs, “look at me.” She repeats it until Asami will look her in the eyes, her green orbs pooling. “Can I touch you?” Korra asks, her tone soothing, and Asami nods slowly. 

Korra places a cool hand on her shoulder and feels the sticky sweat against her dry skin. The smell of cheap vodka, beer and mens cologne is filling the car and it makes her feel sick. She’s not a partier or a massive drinker but by the smell alone she doesn’t understand the appeal. She moves quickly, whipping her head around as she remembers the water bottle she keeps in the door. She places it in Asami’s lap and gently coaxes her to take a sip.

After a little while longer Asami rolls her shoulders back and squeezes Korra’s hand appreciatively. She nods to herself while trying to find her words and Korra rubs slow circles on her back.

“It, it was twelve and everyone was cheering," she starts, slowly, methodically. "And he- he wanted a kiss, which was fine because everyone was kissing and I'd joked last week that I'd kiss him so it was okay," She pauses, justifying things that don't need justifying, setting off alarm bells in Korra's head to the point where she's mentally screaming and the story hasn't even begun. 

"But then," she continues after a sip of water, "at like three, he pulled me aside while Jinora and Opal were dancing and asked me for a kiss and I said yes because it seemed like the right thing to do." She's got silent tears running down her face again and Korra wants to tell her she doesn't have to keep going but she's frozen in place. "But then it, it took a while and he took my hand and he put it down his pants and he started kissing down my neck." The words aren't given tone anymore. They're cold hard statements of fact that are rattling through Korra's ribs, making her fight every urge she has to vomit because Asami's become her best friend. 

"And I didn't want to do that. I didn't like him like that and I just wanted a fun kiss. But he made me touch him and I didn't want that at all." Asami starts to shake so Korra pulls the blanket back over her, Keeping one steadying hand on her knee - steadying for the both of them. "So I pulled away and he called me a whore and then I trapped myself in a bedroom and then I texted you and it was awful Korra. It was terrible and the worst part was I just wanted you." She sobs openly but the tears run clear now - the mascara washed off her face and she seems lighter and that's all Korra could ask for.

"You are so brave Asami," Korra says with as much confidence as she can muster. "You are so brave and that man is a coward and a dick if he thinks he can do that to a woman and you are the strongest person I know, don't you forget that." She leans her forehead on the side of Asami's head and sighs. 

"I'm so sorry baby." 

“Me too,” Asami murmurs. “Me too.”

****

“Oh God, Oh God, Oh God,” mutters Korra, knees bouncing, clammy palms on the leather seats. 

They’re racing down the empty street, lamps flickering as they pass. If it was any lighter, neighborhood watch would have caught them out by now because this is almost certainly not within legal speed limits for the suburbs. Asami passes house after house as they try frantically to make it for Korra’s eleven pm curfew, the wind low and whistling as it cuts the car. They know the stakes. 

Korra's face has turned pale in fear of the reaction she will face, scraping in just under the time agreed. How her mother will react to Asami driving the family car back home, kissing her gently on the cheek and walking two streets to her own home. 

They pull up at ten fifty-nine and Asami almost bursts into tears. 

“See you tomorrow?” She asks softly, wistfully. 

“Yeah,” Korra exhales, tomorrow.

***

Asami makes Korra pull over when she notices the time. They’re both too drunk to be driving and too sober to be alone and they’ve got the windows down as the sea breeze tunnels through the car. It smells of sunsets and saltwater and ice cream sundaes and Korra’s hair and Asami is hooked. 

The old car clock ticks quietly above the hum of the engine and the barely-there sound of the waves and Korra finds pleasure in watching Asami's eyes fixate on the hand. It swings around, red against the clock face. 

Asami catches her staring and her eyes burn green into Korra’s bright blue. It’s a cold night but they’ve both pulled the blankets from the back seat and suddenly Asami is aware of how small the vehicle is because there is not enough room between their faces and-

Their lips touch. Spark. Flicker. Ignite.

And then she’s warm and intoxicated and just a little bit in love but she thinks the dopey smile suits her - heads lolled back on the headrests, hands intertwined.

****

Korra drives them to the beach at sunset. They sit in the boot of the car on a picnic blanket in a parking spot that overlooks the crashing waves and it’s an illusion of stillness Korra struggles to find anywhere else. 

They hold hands because no one can see them - drink a bottle of champagne stolen from Korra’s Mom’s wine fridge. Asami is bundled up in Korra’s chunky knit cardigan and she looks warm and cozy and just a little bit like home.

“Hold me,” Asami asks, with eyes like saucers and a tone rolling in sugar. Korra blinks slowly - capturing the image of her girlfriend in this moment before reaching to pull her into her arms. They don’t have much room but Asami somehow manages to straddle her - a hand on each cheek as Korra grips her hips. Korra bites her own lip softly and suddenly their mouths are pressed together and she’s not sure if it’s the sea air, the girl or a little bit of both but it tastes like magic and she doesn’t ever want to let it go.

“I love you,” she exhales into her hair - just above her ear.

“I love you more,” Asami whispers onto her collarbone.

“Sure Asami,” Korra giggles, pulling Asami closer, burying her face into her hair. 

“Happy Valentine’s day baby.”

****

“We’re only gonna be four hours away,” Asami mumbles, fingers finding Korra’s with ease. “Why does that feel like the whole universe?” 

They’re sitting on Asami’s front steps - she has to leave in an hour if she’s going to make it to NYU for move-in but she’s not quite sure how to put one foot in front of another. Her life is packed up in boxes behind her but her world is holding her hand. 

“Four hours baby. That’s all,” Korra coaxes, “we can do it.” She says it with so much confidence but her bottom lip is trembling frantically. She got a place at Penn State and she’s happy. It’s what she wants - to be away from her family - to grow. Unfortunately that means being away from Asami too.

“Will we make it?” Asami asks - and it’s so earnest it breaks Korra’s heart. 

“Yes.” Korra says. And this time her lip is still. 


End file.
